


Stronger

by TariTheNurse



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anger, Annoyance, Dom/sub, Drinking, Drinking Games, F/M, Girl Power, NSFW, Oral Sex, Rescue Missions, Sex, Smut, Stubbornness, Swearing, Undressing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, haters to lovers, mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:01:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21963532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TariTheNurse/pseuds/TariTheNurse
Summary: One-shot for a Tumblr challenge."The say hate and love are strongly connected, so much so that one can lead to the other in a heartbeat."
Relationships: Thor (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 46





	Stronger

No vocabulary contained the swear words you needed so desperately at that moment. A few interesting options had already passed your lips as you worked through the crumbling building, using your skill to move aside blocks of concrete as though they were tumbleweed to get to survivors. One by one, you had tunneled towards the poor victims, shaping the earth and debris to prevent any collapses, and you had actually been thrilled when you sensed the vibrations of Iron Man landing to take a dirty, shaking body from your arms.

Despair diffused into hope while you worked side by side with the Avengers.

Then the _oaf_ showed up, tossing slabs off concrete out of the way without any consideration to the balance of the ruins.

It happened fast, almost too fast for the movement to register through your feet into your legs. Lunging forward, you managed to grab the kid you had been working towards with one hand while maintaining a thin, wobbly pillar (once the corner of the building) beneath yourself while the rest fell away. Dust and embers billowed. Your heart hammered in the throat. The rumble managed to drown out the kid’s frightened scream. Out of the raging darkness, Stark appeared just in time to grab the poor child as the dirty fingers started to slip through the strained grip – then they were gone and you could focus on your own predicament. Tired and pissed off, you would have a hard time shaping the concrete according to your will (earth would have been preferable due to the malleability).

Then the air crackled, making the little hairs stand on end. Or maybe it was simply the anger simmering from the anticipation of what was to come: a big, strong, blond oaf in a red cloak propelling himself upwards and past you yet somehow still managing to snare an arm around your waist and swish you away.

No language in the universe held the curses you needed. It might have been a hint for Thor if he had noticed how the remainder of the building crushed into itself, becoming no more than dust. He didn’t. He was too busy looking smug, a beaming smile aimed towards you even before he landed with a tooth rattling jolt.

“Fear not, fair lady,” he rumbled with more pride than you could stand, “nothing shall harm you now.”

No restraint could contain the cold words slithering off your lips. “**Who asked you to intervene?**”

“I…beg you pardon?” Oh, the confusion in those electric-blue eyes was perfect.

“**You think you have to _rescue_ me?!**” Forcibly wriggling out of his arms, it was wonderful to have steady ground beneath your feet. “**You think I can’t take care of myself?!**”

He was not off the hook yet, oh no. Not once did the Asgardian God of Thunder get a proper word in as defense while you chewed him out. The only reason you eventually stopped was because Stark came over, dragging you away with the promise of a spa treatment and a party – who in their right mind would say no to that?

… …

The party had been a small celebration with those involved in the day’s heroing: dinner at a local diner followed by drinks at a bar that Stark rented for the evening, but despite the “free” drinks and cute bartenders the Avengers eventually went back to the Tower, dragging you along with them. Were you supposed to have said no? Maybe. But of course you didn’t.

Staying away from Thor, you still managed to have a great time and had no issues ignoring the sulking glances the blond brute sent you from across the room. Drink in hand, you allowed yourself to be sweettalked into some fun and games by Natasha.

…

Who knew that superheroes amuse themselves by something as simple as “Truth or Dare”? To be honest, so far it has been hilarious (especially when Sam tried to minimize the damage he’d done to his reputation after a truth-question).

“Dare,” Thor proclaims with confidence as he stares down the redhead next to you.

A smile curls Natasha’s lips and if you had been on the receiving end then you would be scared. Thor, of course, is not.

“Kiss the person you’ve known the longest _and_ the one you’ve known the shortest.”

There’s a beat of silence where Thor’s eyes flicker in your direction, but the tension is averted by Stark practically throwing himself at the Asgardian in anticipation of what’s to come. Two people don’t participate in the ruckus cheering filling the room: Natasha, who is leering at you…and you, who leans comfortably into the plush pillows, a leg dangling over the other to allow the foot to wiggle along to the beat of the music. _Think murder,_ you tell yourself before meeting her gaze. Steady. Unwavering.

“So…” Your face is a perfect mask of calm innocence. “What’s the punishment when he fails?” _Not if._

Although the words have been quiet, they manage to silence the room. Already, people are getting ideas as Thor recover from the first part of the Dare, his mind now also struggling with the suggestion that he, the Mighty Prince Thor of Asgard, should possibly fail.

“Oh! I know!” It might be Bruce piping up for once…or Stark if he has returned from his private heaven. “Thor’ll have to leave Mjølnir behind for research when he returns to Asgard.”

A collective “oooh” rushes through the group, undoubtedly fueled further by the blond idiot’s reaction. _Perfect._ He’s struggling to keep composure, nerves thrumming through his body - only finding an outlet through the punishing grasp that is threatening to tear off the armrest of the chair, and the curling of toes inside the big boots. But you? A tiny smirk tickles the corner of your mouth as you wait for the inevitable.

“Well, what a-are we waiting for?” Thor smiles falter when you do nothing but sip from the drink. “Surely, you cannot _truly_ detest me…”

_Oh, no?_ The slowest of looks from under your lashes tells him otherwise. Whether he has understood what he did wrong or not, it’s evident he realizes what is at stake at this moment while you have the perfect opportunity to teach him a lesson for making a situation worse by running in like a driverless bulldozer.

“What’s this?” you drawl playfully, “need me to…_save_…you?”

Electricity sparkles in his eyes and you know the words hit the right spot, but then he blinks and it is gone, leaving behind a man in the place of a god. “Yes. Please…save me.”

You know the others must be confused, unsure of what to make of the untamed rivalry between the two of you. Frankly, the scene has taken a turn you didn’t expect either. It’s just that…backing down isn’t an option anymore. Pushing away the knowledge of their presence, you focus on Thor and your nails.

“Funny thing, knowin’ someone _wants_ to be rescued. Really enables a certain _drive_, y’know? A _need_ to do it right and not endanger other people by rushing in like a bumbling _oaf_…dontcha agree?”

“Uhm…”

“Soooo…the plan’s to save you…or Mjølnir…by kissing you?”

“Yes?”

“I’ve seen rocks I’d rather kiss.”

Somewhere, in the world you’ve chosen to ignore for the moment, there are shouts and jeering. Right in front of you is a tall, muscly god with arms crossed as he towers above you. Glaring. Finally letting go of the confusion as your last insult chips away the patience he has cultivated. He doesn’t budge when you stand, chest brushing against his wiry lower arms, and the temptation to stand on the couch becomes nearly overwhelming.

“I’m no rock,” he growls, “unlike your heart.” There’s a gasp from somewhere behind the Asgardian (it distinctly sounds like the word “burn”), quickly followed by shushing. “Though…mayhaps your cold façade serves to keep yourself protected from feeling any love?”

“Nice try…but no.” The last dredges of your drink flows easily over your tongue. _Time for a refill._ “Now, excuse me.”

Thor allows you to pass and get all the way to the bar counter where you deposit the empty glass before he calls out to you. “I did not take you for a coward, lady [Y/N].”

“I’m not.”

“Yet _you_ dare not share a kiss.”

You’ve frozen to the spot, back still turned to the group and hand on the fridge. _I can say no…I can say no…I can…not. Nope. Not gonna chicken out._ Slowly turning, it’s all too evident that everyone is holding their breath in anticipation. Some are praying for a chance to study the bloody hammer while others just want some ammunition to pester either Thor or maybe you with for at least the rest of the night.

“Now that’s a low blow, mister.” He is in trouble and the way you walk back to face him shows it. “Let’s see what you got, then.”

He delivers.

A hand cradling your neck, and arm around your waist pulling you flush up against him. There’s a brief second where your entire vision is filled by the electricity crackling in his blue eyes before his lips are upon you. Surprisingly gentle, they slot onto your mouth with ease and you’re done for. The combination of his beard prickling your upper lip and chin is the perfect contrast to the molten heat parting your lips with a sweep of his tongue to deepen the kiss. You forget to breathe, forget to hold your eyes open and your legs steady. Instead you lean into his embrace and allow your instincts to engage in a dance you hadn’t intended to perform but don’t want out of.

You are breathless when he pulls away, hands supporting you until you have got your bearings again. _Want._

“See?” By some sort of miracle, your voice isn’t reduced to a gasp. “Rocks could do better.”

Thankfully, the scientific part of the group are complaining loudly enough about the missed opportunity to move the attention from you and eventually the game continues for a few rounds. It gives you time - time where you keep pulling your gaze away from the blond god repeatedly. Sometimes, you imagine feeling the electric fire of his eyes scalding your skin, each time making you check to find him studying you unabashedly.

…

By the time the party ends, you’ve been offered to sleep over rather than make your way home. Tony has already staggered off to his room, leaving Natasha in charge of finding a bed for you a few floors below the lounge and instruct you on the little stash of spare clothes hidden behind a panel in the wall.

“Most are gonna sleep in t’morrow, so don’t worry ‘bout getting up early,” she yawns. Just before the door closes behind her, she adds, “Oh, and if you hear snoring it’s just Thor…his room’s across from this.”

_I didn’t hear that._

Snooping around the room and en suite bathroom entertains you for a while and even yields rather luxurious results – the hottest shower you have ever indulged in as well as overly fluffy towels and a dark blue, silk nightshirt that reaches the middle of your thighs. The place is fit for a princess. A highly modern one, but royalty, nonetheless. _Even a Prince of Asgard._

Just the thought makes a delicate sweat break out on your skin. Logic and lust battles within you, painting pictures in your mind of a strong body displayed naked before you, muscles moving like sand beneath the tan skin and a stone-grip on your thighs.

_I’d be weak if I give in,_ you pout as you toss and turn in the enormous bed…_and regret it if I don’t_. Caught between a rock and a hard place there’s no rest to be found while the fire burns within. The problem is not the risk of love or hurt feelings but rather to become “just another of those girls”. The kind of chicks that sigh while waiting for Mr. Right to find them; the type of female who needs a provider and protector for whatever reason. None of those are you. Strong and independent, no one is above you. Sure, you got morals (the wish to help people and not hurt them intentionally is there), but all your life you’ve followed your dreams and aspirations, ensuring you got what you wanted.

“Why not _this_ time?”

The darkness doesn’t answer the whisper, but perhaps that is a reply in its own right.

_Yeah…I want him. I’ll have him. _Slipping from under the duvet, bare feet listen to the information carried like a mumble through the concrete to guide you out of the room and across the hall where a sliver of light cuts below the door. You can feel his footsteps pacing back and forth. _Is he waiting? Considering his own options?_

A deep breath finds its way into your lungs in an attempt to steady your nerves. Rather than knocking, you open the door resolutely, finding the god at the far end of the room in all his naked glory including a semi-hard cock. The once-over becomes a twice-over as the door closes behind you.

“Might wanna lock when walking ‘round in your birthday suit.”

The specimen of a man doesn’t seem bothered by the intrusion or nudity but minimizes the distance between the two of you with all but a yard. “My own door was of little concern,” he rumbles, “while yours became an insurmountable obstacle from which I’ve retreated numerous times…afraid my sins were irredeemable.”

_Oh really?_ “I…could forgive you, I guess…”

“Tell me how!” The tall man literally drops to his knees before you, large hands reaching for your hips but not daring to touch. “Your wish is my command, m’lady.”

It’s a rush to be in charge of Thor, not just due to his natural alpha-vibes or his royal title but rather because he doesn’t _begrudgingly_ follow your instruction as you order him to get up and turn to display himself. He moves with a slow purpose, flexing his limbs lazily as you carve the sight into a memory that time never will erode. Sandy skin glistens in the dimmed light while shadows shimmy across the mountains and valleys of his muscles.

“Undress me.”

There’s not a lot of clothing to remove. Nonetheless, he extends each part of the task to the infinite, making sure not to touch your skin as each button of the silk shirt is popped to allow the cool fabric to slide off your shoulders and pool at your feet. Once more, he kneels. Calloused fingers reaching for the hem of your panties.

“Wait.” His hands stop mere millimeters away. “Before you remove them, feel free to touch me as you wish.”

Even without direct eye contact, you can sense the flicker of lightning playing in the blue of his irises – a convenient explanation to why every hair on your body stands on end when you still don’t want to admit it’s pure excitement.

His first touches are featherlight strokes up and down your thighs, curving to the back where the large palms fit so well under the ass. Fingertips tug at the thin fabric of your undies, pulling them partially below the hips so only your mound remains hidden, baring sensitive skin for Thor to lavish with subtle kisses. The first tremors dance deep within you, early warnings of an earthquake only he can set off.

The grip is much stronger, needier, when his hands frame your waist to pull you flush against his chest. Nose in navel, deep breaths inhale your scent. The smile of his lips can be felt against your abdomen, growing wider as he cups one of the breasts where his fingers stroke the peak and tweak the hardening pebble to make you gasp.

“M’lady,” he murmurs against your hip, tongue tracing the shift in your flesh to where the bundled undies hinder further advances, “please allow me…?”

“Alright.”

Barely have the words left your lips before you feel the fabric slip down, reluctantly letting go where they have soaked up the wetness between your legs already. He knows. A deep sigh escapes him, immediately followed by kisses claiming the path towards your sex.

A few inches and his lips will be on your clit.

One inch.

“Enough.” The words are more ragged than sharp as intended, but Thor accepts the command. “Get on the bed.”

You follow him closely as he scoots backwards until his head rests on the pillow. _Damn._ Every tensed muscle you touch could be carved from sun-heated marble. Shivers erupt from where you hands glide over his skin – all running towards the proudly erect cock which in itself is a godly masterpiece that twitches in anticipation as you straddle his thighs.

It’s so obvious, the craving in those electric eyes devouring you whole, the tremble caused by self-restraint. _Waiting for the order, huh?_ Reaching for his hands, allowing fingers to entwine as you lean down to nibble at his throat. Sensitive nipples sweep over his chest. Each stuttering breath escaping Thor tickles your ear as your lips find their way towards his until the connection finally is made and he can steal your breath away, drinking it straight from your mouth. Hips roll, his or yours – it barely matters – but you won’t let go and allow his hands to roam. Not yet at least. Tearing away, a smile plays on your lips at the whine he utters at the lack of contact.

“So eager,” you purr, “for this?”

Not once do your eyes stray from him. Your own hands are much smaller, doing little to imitate what Thor might be able to do if he was the one to cup your breasts before a hand slides to the apex of your thighs to splay the folds and spread the glistening wetness there. Blatantly taunting him, moaning and rocking against your own touch as you expertly swirl the clit. Beneath you, the man groans and you do the same when you tweak the nipples, one after the other as the hand works. There’s a distinct sound of fabric ripping when a few of your digits enter the core.

“Please. Goddess,” the desperate man gasps, “please.”

Rolling the pelvis (and shuffling slightly forward on the knees) you drag your sobbing cunt along Thor’s shaft, the tip teasing the entrance enough for him to pout as you repeat the maneuver. _So tempting. _All it would take is a little lift and then a slow, breathtaking slide to bring his cock inside. To feel the width and length press ever right spot as the walls of your cunt would stretch and quiver to accommodate him.

“Show me how to treat a goddess, then.”

The mask of meek desperation crumbles in seconds, revealing a predatorial greed gleaming like sharp crystals. Rather than grab your hips and guide you until you are impaled on his cock, however, he surges up to embrace you tightly. A demanding mouth captures your lips, stealing your senses by the flexing sweeps of a tongue matched by bites. When Thor’s hands begin to roam, you find yourself unable to do anything but hold on to him, nails digging into the muscly back, as your body grinds against him with a will of its own.

You’re vaguely aware of the room turning around you and the firm softness of a mattress against your back, but nothing truly stands clear until the nibbling kisses and licks travel down your body. Clavicle and shoulders, breasts where each hypersensitive nipple is treated heavenly before Thor proceeds across the expanse of your stomach.

He uses every part of his body to tease you: his voice sends vibrations into your very soul, the press of him is deliciously insistent between your legs, his reddish beard a devilish contrast to the sweetness of his lips, and his hands…_oh god…_his hands are everywhere. Pinching, massaging, stroking.

“O-ah!” The sound slips out of you in whimper.

Thor is paying full attention to your clit, licking broad stripes all along the folds before spelling out the alphab- _wait._ Each flick of his tongue does trace a letter around the tight bundle of nerves, but they aren’t random instead spelling out your name before a broad lick starts it all over until your toes curl and legs shake from the approaching orgasm and your moans have changed to keening cries for more.

In a flurry, the strong man sits back, hauling you along to ensure your legs are clenching his flanks firmly and his cock breaching the entrance to your core. Strong hands under your ass is holding you steady, allowing you to look down upon his face where your juices glisten in the beard.

“A word from your…lips is a law…in my…life,” he gasps just as eager as you.

“Give me ev’rything.”

The muscles shiver under the Asgardian’s skin from holding back as he impales you slowly. Your back arches. Your walls flutter and squeeze in a pulsating rhythm, soon matched by Thor’s thrusts and pulls at your hips the moment he shifts the hold on you. Deep, dragged out movements hitting all the right spots within and outside of your core.

No metaphor covers the sensation as you cum, riding Thor’s cock as you sit in his lap. Maybe an earthquake, a landslide that sends you flying into a void containing nothing but the two of you, his arms holding you while your body relents control in favour of unbridled euphoria. And just as it feels as though the orgasm wanes, the man’s thrusts stutter and a tingle of electricity runs through your core bringing you to a new peak together with Thor.

Breath by shuddering breath, you descend from the high wrapped in each others’ arms while foreheads rest against each other. Eventually you reach between your bodies, holding in his cum as he slips out and lies you down on the bed.

“Don’t leave, [Y/N],” he asks from the place beside you.

_How could I?_ “Just let me freshen up.”

…

Cleaned up and watered, you’re back in Thor’s bed, allowing him to tug you closer.

“My lady…if this be the punishment for my wrongs then I may have to interfere more often…”

_Hmmm…potential._ “I’m imaginative,” you laugh, “so stay sharp.”

“As you wish, my queen.”


End file.
